


An Unlikely Encounter

by ArtjuiceRP, Hawkeye733



Series: Scenes You'd Like to See [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Drunkenness, Gen, Humour, Tumblr Prompt, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:12:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4127874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtjuiceRP/pseuds/ArtjuiceRP, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkeye733/pseuds/Hawkeye733
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr prompt: The dear Killian Jones and the lovely Varric Tethras become drinking buddies in a bar after a hard day of work, talking about god knows what</p>
<p>Scenes You'd Like to See is the result of ArtjuiceRP and Hawkeye733 being terrible influences on each other and then asking tumblr for prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unlikely Encounter

Varric regaled the gathered crowd in the tavern with the latest version of Hawke’s recent mishap with mages on the Wounded Coast. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary had occurred but at this point the crowd would lap up any spin he put on the tale. As he wrapped the story to a close, he saw a face he didn’t recognise having a determined discussion with Corff the bartender.

He gave the dark-haired man a quick once over as he meandered through the usual patrons towards the bar. He was human, dressed in black leather and didn’t seem to have the build of a warrior. An apostate perhaps, unless he was very adept at hiding daggers under that get up.

Varric listened in to the conversation as the new guy seemed to be rather insistent on getting something from Corff.

“Rum! Look, anything that calls itself a tavern must have rum. Dark spirit, got a kick like a mule and enough to knock the best man off his sea legs.” Varric smiled at Corff’s unamused stare and stepped forward as the man kept trying to get his meaning across. “Pirate’s drink? Navy Neaters, Demon Water…?”

As the bartender’s expression changed from one of pained patience to a look of confused horror, Varric quickly stepped forward.

“He’ll have a pint of your finest, Corff, and another for me.” The man looked down at Varric in surprise and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t have what I’m after.” The man sounded dejected and Varric tried to guess at his accent, which seemed to be closest to Fereldan.

“You might want to be careful spouting off about demon water in these parts. Most people find it something of a touchy subject.” Varric told him and gestured to a table at the back of the room.

“Ah, don’t we need to…” The man gestured at the pint glass he had retrieved from the bar and Varric laughed it off.

“Don’t worry, it’ll go on my tab. I insist.”

“Ah, I’m flattered, truly but, I’m not interested.” The man gestured apologetically with his free arm, and Varric noticed for the first time the silver hook that sat in place of his hand.

“And I’m taken, Hook, I was just looking for some friendly conversation.”

“So you’ve heard of me?” The man, Hook apparently, asked and Varric stifled a laugh.

“No, it just seemed fitting. Hook, then? Allow me to introduce myself. Varric Tethras, finest storyteller in Thedas and as such, it’s my duty to check out anyone who looks like they might have an interesting tale to spin.”

“So this city is Thedas?” Hook asked and Varric chuckled out loud at that.

“Maker, no.” He laughed, “This is the city of Kirkwall, Thedas is the realm we’re all in, i’m just that good a storyteller. Exactly how far _have_ you travelled, new guy?” Varric exclaimed, leaning forward in his seat.

“It wouldn’t be the first time the Jolly Roger has sailed me through to unheard of realms, though I usually have a little more warning than a rough squall.” Hook’s voice came out darker, sounding disturbed.

“Well it’s certainly unheard of to me, though what did I say about having an eye for an interesting tale?”

Hook looked away, seemingly not as excited as Varric to share his stories and the dwarf sighed internally, deciding it would take a little more loosening of the tongue to hear that.

“So you’re a sailor, then? I have a friend you should meet. Or, on second thoughts, not. She’d probably eat you alive.” Hook’s eyebrow raised at the statement and he turned back to Varric with a smirk on his face.

“She?” He emphasised with a mischievous tone.

“Tell me you’re not another pirate. That is definitely a terrible idea.” Varric laughed and they took long gulps of their beer, the dwarf amused by the grimace of distaste that crossed Hook’s face. “Don’t worry Pirate, it grows on you.”

“I hope it doesn’t have to,” He commented and Varric nodded in understanding. They continued talking through another pint, Varric telling Hook more about Kirkwall, his friends, all the usual things people wanted to hear about. The pirate in turn had stories of his land, the Enchanted Forest, which Varric personally thought sounded far too cutesy to not be a joke.

They had moved onto a pitcher of ale between them and were feeling generally quite merry when Hook ventured a new comment.

“So Varric, if I might say so, you have an unusual name, for a dwarf.”

“How so?"

“Well, it’s not...Dwarves usually...Varric isn’t a state of being.” He said finally and Varric squinted over at him.

“I think you’re wrong there. I am very happily _being_ a Varric right now.” He replied and they both burst out laughing.

“No but seriously,” Hook got out, when they had collected themselves some more, “All the dwarves I’ve ever met before were called things like Happy, Grumpy, Sleazy… things like that.” Varric choked into his pint glass.

“Ah well, you see, since Sleazy was taken my parents had to get creative.”

“So you mean, that’s not a thing here?” Hook’s question was answered by the incredulous stare the dwarf was giving him.

“No. Who names their child something like that?” Varric was chuckling again and Hook couldn’t help but join in.

“Well, see, I don’t think their parents name them. I’m not quite sure how dwarf families work but I do know that when they get their pick axe, it tells them their name.” Hook went on and the laughter grew more raucous.

“Their pick axe? Hook, you gotta be shitting me. I knew surfacers had some crazy stories about dwarves but this, this really tops them all.” They were leaning against each other now, laughter coming in heaves.

And they finished their pitcher.

It was some hours later into the night, Hook and Varric had lost track of the amount they had actually had to drink and they were reaching that point in the evening where they would probably swear they had been best mates for years. Varric was all ready to invite him along on their next adventure, whether it was to the Coast, into the Gallows, wherever, this pirate was more than welcome to join their sordid crew.

Then they were somehow stumbling out the door onto the street, leaning rather heavily on each other as they swayed along the cobbled roads, drunkenly singing the shanty they both knew the tune of and had learnt different lyrics.

This was how they found themselves in the streets of Darktown, still humming and laughing loudly until some poor miscreant trying to sleep under a canopy threw a small pebble at their lumbering shadows and told them to keep it down. They tried their best and in hushed whispers descended the stairs to the various pits and piles of tools lying outside the many concealed entrances to caverns below the city.

And there lay the treasure they were after.

With more than a little amount of noise they began rifling through the shovels, sticks and ropes that littered the floors. With the clattering they were making in the middle of the night, it was no surprise when a few people came to see what they were doing.

Eventually, they found what they were looking for. Hook turned around, a great smile on his face and held out his find to Varric.

The dwarf laughed up at him and reached out, hovering his hand over the tool with reverence.

“You found my pick axe!”

“Here, here take it! What’s your name?” Hook whispered loudly and Varric slowly held out his hands, grinning all the while.

Once the weight of the pick axe was in his hands he looked down at the wooden handle. Nothing, Turning it over he saw black letters scrawled before him.

“Yes! My name is…” Varric began before the words on the handle filtered through to his brain.

“The Bone Pit,” Hook finished triumphantly with a laugh, “Well that’s a bit different to back home.”

“Yeah… there’s something just like that out of town.” Varric said, slurring slowly as he tried to think. Then a hand appeared and grasped the pick axe, wrenching it from his grip.

“That’s mine, you drunk nugheads. Go an’ make fools of yourself somewhere else.” The man grumbled, already heading back to wherever he came from.

Hook met Varric’s eyes and they both cracked up at the same time, “Well come on, Boney.” Hook wheezed and put a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here, Pitty.” Varric replied and they began to support each other back up the long steps to Lowtown.

Perhaps it wasn’t a story Varric would tell his regular crowd of listeners, but he knew Hawke and Co would get a good laugh out of it.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has seen Galavant, then there may have been a certain song that came to mind as i wrote parts of this.
> 
> We were so happy to get this prompt


End file.
